Twenty Five Days, and We Had Christmas
by pensversusswords
Summary: 25 days of Christmas drabbles filled with holiday cheer and sickening fluff. One uploaded a day, from now until Christmas Day.
1. I'll be Home for Christmas

**A/N:** These will all be unrelated (unless otherwise specified) and I will upload a new one every day, all of them varying in length. Basically I'm just gonna have fun with this, no real set rules. I'm accepting prompts for this too, so feel free to send me your suggestions! If you want you can follow my tumblr where I will be keeping everyone updated as I write, and will be posting the fics before I put them here. I'll update the tags as I go along, since a lot of them are still undecided. Hope you enjoy, and happy holidays!

For the full desired effect, listen to Michael Buble's "I'll be Home for Christmas" as you read :). I had it on repeat as I wrote.

* * *

><p>Later, Steve looks back and he's completely at a loss as to where the sudden burst of courage came from.<p>

Tony had just looked so adorable, sitting there next him with his hair all mussed up from leaning against the back of the couch. He was so close that Steve could feel the faint warmth of him radiating from his body, and Steve had thought more than once since the eccentric genius had flopped down there, how easy it would be to scoot over and press the length of his leg against him.

Of course, that wasn't an option, but that wasn't anything new.

Steve sated his desire for his teammate's touch by relishing in their proximity, enjoying the way that even as he sat next to him, in typical Tony fashion he was far from being still. His hands were a flurry of movement on the tablet on his lap, and he was muttering words to himself, scientific jargon that Steve didn't understand, but he'd always quite liked the sound of Tony's voice. It was rather welcome background noise for Steve as he loosely sketched a drawing of the team, who currently were all flopped around the room in various states of dozing. Soft snoring came from one of them, probably Thor, accenting the sound of quiet Christmas music playing in the background.

Then, that song had come on.

He'd heard it before, in stores and on the radio, the low crooning of a deep voice mingling with the gentle strokes of piano keys, smooth and blissful.

_I'm dreaming tonight of a place I love …_

He'd looked over then, looked at Tony in the soft lamplight, the way the arc reactor burned faintly in his chest, the concentration hovering around the curve of his lips. There was something about it, the swell of the music around them on that quiet December night that gave Steve that spark, that sliver of courage that made him stand up, tall and resolute, and offer a shaking hand to Tony.

"Dance with me," he said quietly, meaning for it to come out as a confident suggestion, but instead heard the way his voice trembled slightly with nervousness. However, if Steve was known for anything, it wasn't for backing out of a challenge. He forced himself to stand still, to hold his ground.

Tony looked up, his expression vague and confused for a moment as he stared at Steve's hand, clearly not processing what Steve's intentions were. Then he looked up to meet Steve's eyes, and asked plainly; "What?"

Steve cleared his throat, and spoke again. "Will you dance with me?"

_I promise you…_

Tony blinked up at him, utter confusion on his face. "Seriously?"

"Uh, yes," Steve answered, trying so hard to keep his voice steady and his hand extended. There was no undoing this now, he might as well see it through 'til the end, even if the end meant him dissolving into a puddle of humiliation.

Tony set his tablet aside on the coffee table, still staring at him. "You're asking me to dance with you?"

_I'll be home for Christmas…_

Steve let out a breathy laugh. Hearing the words out loud definitely didn't help the situation. "Yes, it seems like I am. You don't have to, I'm sorry, I shouldn't have-"

"No, no." Tony was shaking his head. "I'm just surprised. Didn't think you danced Rogers."

"I don't," Steve admitted. He paused before continuing, that strange force of courage in his gut fiery and urgent, spurring him to say words that couldn't be taken to mean anything other than they actually did. "Never found anyone I wanted to dance with."

Steve hadn't imagined that he'd ever render Tony Stark speechless.

"Uh…"

"Look," Steve said quietly, "you don't have to, you can say no if-"

"Yes," Tony blurted, seeming to be surprised by the loudness of his voice in the quiet room. He cleared his throat. "Yes," he said again, quieter, and suddenly he was standing in front of Steve, fingers closing warm and secure around his hand.

Steve knew his smile was comically pleased, bordering on foolishly ecstatic, and he would've been embarrassed about it, except that Tony's answering smile was soft and tentative and so beautiful it ached. His fingers were tangled in his own, fitting against his hand like that's where it belonged. He couldn't bring himself to be embarrassed when something as simple as this could make him feel so blissfully happy.

_Christmas Eve will find me, where the love light gleams…_

He pulled Tony closer to him, bringing him further into the center of the room, trying not to revel too much in the fact that they naturally came together with no hesitation from either of them; Tony's hand moving to rest lightly on his shoulder, his own hand cupping the curve of his hip through the thinness of his shirt. He couldn't wipe that stupid smile off his face, but it was okay, but Tony was smiling back at him still, and Steve was pretty sure he could see a kind of contentment there that resembled his own.

_I'll be home for Christmas…_

Then they were moving together, slowly, a bit awkwardly at first because Steve didn't really know how to dance and Tony wasn't the best at leading him through it, but it didn't really matter. They stumbled a bit, their movements flickering between smooth and abrupt, both of them trying to find the right rhythm.

Steve didn't care. Tony could step on his feet and leave him with broken toes and he wouldn't mind, because Tony was looking back at him with that soft smile in the faint golden light of the room, and Steve thought that in that moment he wouldn't rather be anywhere else in the world. This was enough.

Looking down at Tony, after they'd started to move together more languidly, their feet knocking into each other's less and less, he found himself singing to Tony, the words quiet and secret as they escaped his lips on his breath.

_"I'll be home for Christmas, if only in my dreams…"_

They were so close, so close that Steve could see in detail the fluttering of his eyelashes, the faint flush that spread across his cheeks, the undeniable sparkle in his eyes. Steve could feel his breath against his lips in tiny puffs, could feel the warmth of him seeping into his skin. They were almost nose to nose, eyes locked and intent on each other, something so delicate and poignant there that Steve wouldn't have dared to look away from the golden coffee brown of Tony's eyes.

"Can I read into this?" Tony asked quietly, and Steve faltered for a moment at the words, hearing the tiny twinge of doubt there. Tony was looking at him with unmistakable hope, with eyes that looked at Steve in the same way that Steve was sure he looked at Tony all the time.

Steve could be so blind sometimes.

"Yes," he whispered.

_If only in my dreams…_

Tony leaned in, closing that fraction of an inch between them, his eyes never leaving Steve's. They were searching, as if they were waiting for Steve to back away from him, to let go and walk away, even though Steve had been the one to ask him to dance. Their lips hovered there, so close but not touching, for a few moments, frozen together in a glitch in time, as if they were both realizing simultaneously the magnitude of what they were about to do.

Steve knew that once he kissed Tony, there would be no going back. He was more than fine with that.

"_Please have some snow, and mistletoe…"_

Tony stole the tail end of the phrase Steve sung from his lips, taking them for his own with the gentle press of his mouth against his. There was a sound that was almost a gasp, and Steve was sure it was him, but he paid it no mind. Tony stole from his lips what Steve was giving him willingly. Pressed together, frozen in that incandescent moment in time, they melded into each other like paint blending on a canvas. Two effervescent colours melting together, becoming new and vibrant, becoming more of themselves with just that gentle, undemanding touch.

Steve's hand cupped the back of Tony's neck, and Tony had his fingers curled tightly in the fabric of Steve's shirt, clinging as if he needed an anchor. His lips were gentle against Steve's, gentle and so soft, and Steve wouldn't have had it any other way.

So it was there, in the living room of the tower, in the midst of their best friends and team mates who slept even though the world was shifting under their feet, that they danced for the first of many times. They rode the wave of the final strains of the song, lost in the music, and lost in each other.

_If only in my dreams…_


	2. The Santa Hat AKA My Boyfriend's a Dork

It took until they arrived at the Victorian style bed and breakfast, and were walking up the cobblestone walkway, their boots crunching freshly fallen snow, that Tony finally cracked and just _had _to say something.

"Honey?"

"Mmm?" Steve glanced at him quickly, with that little half smile he always gave when Tony got his attention. "What is it, Tony?"

"You gotta take off the Santa hat."

Steve paused, just about to take the step onto the staircase up to the quaint little doors of the bed and breakfast, and turned to Tony with a wide eyed expression.

"What?" he asked, wide eyed and confused beneath the obnoxiously bright red Santa hat that hung across his forehead, resting just on the crest of his brow. Beneath it, perplexed puppy dog eyes stared at Tony. "Why would I take it off? Clint gave it to me."

"As a _joke,"_ Tony pointed out and Steve just shrugged.

"So? He wears his."

"Because Barton is a moron, Steve," Tony grumbled. "Are you going to take it off?"

"Of course not. Why do you want me to?"

"Because it's ridiculous!" Tony exclaimed, throwing his hands into the air with exasperation. They'd left the tower that morning in the midst of a gentle snowfall, leaving behind the expressions of fondness and amusement that the team had given them as they set out the door for their weekend Christmas getaway. They, of course, were looking at the duo like that because for one, it was so purely romantic that they couldn't help but tease fondly, and secondly, Steve was proudly wearing that stupid hat. He looked like something out of a department store window display. Tony didn't even pretend to not notice Clint snickering behind his hand when he saw Tony's expression upon seeing the tacky monstrosity atop his boyfriend's head. The rest of the team obviously all though the hat was cute, and secretly so did Tony, but he didn't think that Steve was going to _keep it on._

"It's not ridiculous, it's festive, Tony," Steve insisted. "Where's your Christmas spirit?"

"Buried under centuries of cynicism," Tony grunted, "right where is belongs. You're really not going to take it off?"

Steve shook his head with a little smile, making that damn pompom on the top of the hat wiggle ridiculously, and leaned over to press a soft kiss to Tony's cold nose.

"Nope," he said, popping the 't'. "I will not, it's Christmas."

Tony rolled his eyes, trying not to make it _too _embarrassingly affectionate. "You are such a dork, old man."

"You love it," Steve replied in a singsong voice, flashing Tony that dazzling grin that he felt right down to his knees. He was such a sucker for Steve smiles. He was pretty sure that if it was scientifically possible to bottle them, it would cure all the world's sicknesses.

Steve reached over to curl his fingers around Tony's mittened hand, giving it a gentle squeeze with warm fingers that Tony could feel through the fabric. "C'mon," Steve murmured, the words ghosting across his cheek on a puff of frosty air. "Let's go inside."

The thing was, Tony actually adored how much of a dork his boyfriend was.

Back before he'd fallen in love with the six foot tall hulking mass of muscle who was simultaneously a living teddy bear, he would've never expected that he would be completely enamored by the sweet little quirks of Steve Rogers, little things that he would have scoffed in the recent past. Little things that now made him want to kiss Steve silly every time he'd walked into the kitchen at six in the morning on his way to bed, to find Steve sitting by the window with the early morning sunlight setting fire to every strand of his blonde hair. Most times he would find him there hunched over a crossword puzzle, or sometimes he'd even be knitting, _knitting_, and Tony was embarrassed to say that the sight would immediately make him melt. He had a sickness. A Steve sickness.

But the thing was, around Christmas, Tony had discovered that Steve's dorky behaviour increased tenfold over the holidays. It was their first holiday season together, and Steve had already worn at least ten different tacky Christmas sweaters, gone carolling at least once, and sent out Christmas cards to everyone they knew. Even Fury. Tony rolled his eyes and made fun of his sweaters and the carolling and had doubled over laughing so hard his stomach hurt at the mental image of Fury opening an envelope to find a card with a snowman grinning at him, a gaudy coloured scarf wrapped around his neck, telling him to have a _"_Out_snow_ding Christmas," from the Avengers. The inside was signed by the whole team, by order of Captain Rogers. The pun was horrible, just _horrible_, it didn't even make sense and it wasn't clever at all; Tony was well within his rights to think it was hilarious.

Despite all of Tony's teasing, Steve would just watch him with that soft grin, nod his head and chuckle at Tony's reaction. His eyes would be sparkling as he assessed Tony, watching him with knowing eyes, as if he knew that Tony found it unbearably adorable. It was increasingly frightening to Tony how easy it was to Steve to read him like an open book.

He probably should've been more concerned about it, but then Steve would look at him like he was the only thing that mattered in the world, and Tony just figured _what the hell. _Might as well enjoy the "sickeningly in love" shtick for as long as he could.

He couldn't really complain about being so blissfully happy. He was going to soak up every bit of it that he could for as long as it lasted.

Which was why that evening, when they tumbled through the door of their small little bedroom (Steve had insisted on a small, inexpensive location for their getaway, and Tony only protested moderately, because he was a sucker), from a snowy evening walk through the little village, cheeks flushed with cold and their hair messed from their hats, that Tony was only a little embarrassed when he pressed a cold kiss to Steve's cheek and said, "let's sit in front of the fire," like the sickening romantic he never thought he'd be.

Steve just grinned at him, squeezed his fingers and nodded. "Let me make hot chocolate first, okay?"

"Not coffee?" Tony grouched, and Steve shook his head.

"Nope, didn't bring any. If you want coffee you're gonna have to find it elsewhere. I'm making hot chocolate, and you're gonna love it."

"You're a cruel man, Rogers," Tony grumbled, but he was grinning. He could go a night without coffee, he planned on sleeping the whole night curled up next to his super soldier heater all night anyways. No need for a caffeine kick.

Yawning, he yanked a comforter off of the bed, along with a few absurdly fluffy pillows, and proceeded to bad across the room. Since there were no adequate chairs in the room to fit the both of them, he decided to make a nest with them in front of the gaping hole in the wall that was the elegant wrought iron fireplace. It cast warm glowing light around the room, just enough blazing heat to be comfortable after just being outside. It was, Tony thought, perfect.

He had just finished making himself comfortable in the mass of pillows and blankets he'd spread haphazardly on the floor when Steve returned with two mugs in his hands. They were topped with red and green flecked whipped cream, and a candy cane poked out of each one - Steve wasn't one to skimp on his hot chocolate, he'd learned. He passed one to Tony, and then lowered himself down to the floor. He slid in behind Tony, pulling him against his chest, slotting into place against his back, right where he belonged.

"Hey there," Steve murmured, pressing a soft kiss to his temple.

"Hello, gorgeous," Tony whispered back, and tilted his head to brush a faint kiss to Steve's mouth. Steve hummed happily against his lips, a warm hand splayed on his stomach, holding him tightly against him; safe and secure.

Tony leaned his head back onto Steve's shoulder, tucking his forehead into the crook of Steve's neck. He burrowed himself deeper into the cocoon of blankets, sipping from the steaming mug in his hands. It was, admittedly, rather good. Perhaps not better than coffee, but pretty damn near as good.

"Do you like it?" Steve asked him after a few minutes of comfortable silence, "If you don't I can go walk to a store or something to find you coffee. I think I saw somewhere on our way here, it would only take about thirty minutes…"

Tony was shaking his head before Steve even finished. Of course Steve would offer to go walk for thirty minutes in the freezing cold just to get Tony a damn coffee.

"Hush," Tony told him, and kissed him silent, lips warm and gentle. "It's great, you're great, and if you leave now I will be very upset. This is better than coffee."

Steve raised his eyebrows as he gazed down at Tony. "Better than coffee? That sounds like a betrayal to me, Tony, how will you go home to your stash?"

"I'm on vacation," he snorted, and kissed the underside of Steve's jaw. "If I want to enjoy my boyfriend's hot chocolate and company, the coffee is just gonna have to understand."

"What has the world come to," Steve teased mournfully.

"I don't know," Tony groaned, "but I blame it all on you."

Steve chuckled, the deep sound rumbling in his chest. "Okay, Tony."

Tony just cuddled closer, too blissfully content to feel a moment of shame for it.

There was a long, unhurried pause before Tony spoke again, his voice hesitant and only a bit begrudging.

"The Santa hat isn't that bad."

Tony could practically hear the smile in Steve's voice when he responded with a quiet, "okay, Tony."

After a beat, Tony continued speaking, scowling grouchily, but determined to say what he wanted to say. "I don't mind if you wear it. It's... cute."

"Mmm," Steve hummed.

Tony just grunted moodily back at him, saying without words that that was all Steve was going to get out of him

Of course, Steve understood. He leaned down to kiss his cheek lightly, and his bemused voice tickled his flesh as he spoke, lips still pressed gently to his cheek. "Yeah, I know."

Tony sighed, still keeping his expression unpleased, but it was all for show and both him and Steve knew it. Tony just huddled in closer, into the soft, firm warmth that was Steve. Just for a while, he could lose himself in this. It was only the first Christmas Tony had spent with him, but he decided right then that he never again wanted to spend another one without him.


	3. Maybe Not so Bad After All

When a dark haired, coffee brown eyed mass of alcohol induced excitement crashed into his chest, it took Steve about a full five seconds to process what had just happened.

See, he was at his office Christmas party, which he had fully expected to be a dull affair that he could simply attend, mingle for the appropriate amount of time, and quietly slip out. It wasn't not that he hated parties, but he wasn't overly fond of them; often finding mindless conversation pointless and rowdy behaviour too much for him. Sometimes he'd have fun, but tonight, he'd wanted to stay home. Genuinely not feeling like interacting with anyone, he'd wanted to curl up on his couch with his cat, and just let the world fade away as he watched Christmas movies filled with bottomless holiday spirit. But he'd felt obligated to go, knowing that after the holidays he'd pay for it, since there was no way he'd be able to make up an excuse (he was a terrifically horrible liar, he'd been told many a time), and so he went. He'd had every intention of leaving before eleven o'clock.

Then, one of his coworkers, a hulking blonde Adonis named Thor, had brought some potent, sweet tasting liquor from his home country, and everyone had a bit, and then a bit more, and then suddenly everyone was drunk. Which meant, boundaries were out the window. Every time he tried to sneak out the door, someone would mournfully ask him where he was going, and he'd give them a plastic smile and say nowhere.

So there he was, at a party he was very much ready to be done with, talking idly to a gaggle of coworkers he hardly knew as he smiled and laughed along with whatever they were saying, when a certain, mildly intoxicated someone stumbled into his arms. He instinctively raised his hands to cup the man's forearms, fingers curling tightly around warm flesh, as their face crashed into Steve's chest.

"Oof," the man said, as if the slight fall had knocked the breath out of him. There was an instant of flushed realization where Steve became aware that the person was in fact, his close friend and coworker, Tony Stark.

"Uh," Steve said blankly, surprised to suddenly have an armful of Tony, the resident genius, who was now lifting his head from Steve's chest to stare at him with bleary, confused eyes.

Who also happened to be the man Steve was hopelessly smitten with.

"Whoa," Tony said breathlessly, his voice a little distant and slurred, "watch out."

After Steve was done with his five seconds of bewilderment, he shook himself and managed a small smile down at Tony. "You're the one who ran into me, Tony."

"Semantics," Tony slurred back. He poked Steve's chest with one finger, and grinned up at him, seemingly pleased for some unknown reason. "Thanks for catching me Mr. Muscles."

Steve let out a giddy laugh and hoped the internal blush he felt at that didn't show up on his face. Or at least, that Tony wouldn't notice. "Any time, Tony."

"Such a gentleman," Tony murmured, looking up at Steve through hooded eyelids, a faint grin painted onto his lips.

It was about at that moment that Steve realized that he was still clutching Tony's arms, supporting his weight as he leaned into him.

Slowly he released him, and took a step backwards. Tony swayed a bit as he backed away, but he didn't seem to be in any danger of falling, so Steve forced himself to stay put, however nice it had been to have Tony pressed against him.

"Yeah, you could say that," Steve said wryly, "but it would've been kind of awful for me to let you just fall on your face."

"Wouldn't be the first time," he told him cheerfully, then turned to look over his shoulder. "I scared away your group."

"My - oh. Them." Somewhere between Tony falling on him and him fumbling to be casual about it, the unnamed coworkers had drifted away, all headed in their own directions. "They weren't really my group, I hardly know them."

"Mmm," Tony hummed, and observed him quietly for a few moments before speaking. "You know what?" he asked.

"What is it?"

"This party sucks," Tony announced, as if it was some kind of proclamation the world was just waiting to hear. He surveyed the room of rumpled office workers with a look of disapproval.

"Thor's magic juice didn't make it interesting enough?" Steve asked, his tone amused.

Tony gave him a disbelieving look that probably would've worked a lot better if his features hadn't been all soft and relaxed by the wonders of alcohol. "A rather dim light in a rather dim room, Steve. No alcohol I've ever met has ever given boring people the ability to be entertaining."

Steve just chuckled and shook his head. "Then why did you come?"

"Because Pepper made me," he said miserably, and pointed his finger at his red haired, elegant boss who was talking to a short, balding man as she sipped from her drink. "She said I had to make an appearance."

"That's too bad," Steve said sympathetically.

"It is."

"I didn't want to come either, I wanted to watch Christmas movies," Steve admitted with a twist of his lips. He hadn't meant to say that. That was embarrassing right? Tony hadn't seemed to notice though, so he just plowed on."I've been trying to leave for forever."

Tony's eyes brightened at that. "Let's leave then."

"What?"

"Let's leave," he insisted, and reached out to firmly grasp Steve's arm. Steve tried not to shudder at the deliberate contact, telling himself to get a grip, he was just being friendly. "Come on, no one's paying attention, now's our chance."

Tony glanced around the room quickly, as if to reinforce his statement, and then turned back to Steve with insistent eyes.

"Are you sure we can just leave?" Steve asked, still hesitant.

"Yes, yes, come on, swiftly Rogers, we haven't got all night."

Steve suddenly found himself being ushered out the door by a still tipsy Tony Stark, wondering how on earth this turned out to be his night.

* * *

><p>He wasn't completely sure <em>how, <em>but somewhere between the office and the street in front of the building, it was decided that they were heading back to Steve's place, and he had no idea how that had happened. The cab ride had been spent with him listening to Tony yammer away in his ear, and Steve sitting there still a bit confused, but not adverse to the turn of events for the evening. Even if Tony just crashed on his couch when they got home, Steve would've over the moon just to spend time with him.

He was so hopelessly smitten it was embarrassing.

When they stumbled into his apartment and Steve hastily flicked on the lights while tossing his keys on the table, he heard the familiar _thump _and pitter-patter of four little feet trotting towards the door.

Tony was kicking his shoes off when the grey and white spattered cat came padding into view, and he turned to Steve with a raised eyebrow.

"You have a cat?" he asked, which was a redundant question, of course, but Steve could hear the implied _'what the hell'_ in there somewhere. Which, Steve didn't understand in the slightest.

"Yeah, that's Peggy," Steve responded, as he shoved their shoes and coats into the closet. Peggy was now affectionately butting her head against Tony's leg, and sniffing him inquisitively while the newcomer stared down at her with an amused grin.

"Would've pegged you for a dog person," Tony told him, and Steve just shrugged. He wasn't sure what to make of that.

"Hello there," Tony said with a surprised chuckle when she started winding her way through his legs, meowing up at him.

"Sorry," Steve apologized, rubbing at the back of his neck, "she's very affectionate, I can put her in my room is she's bothering you-"

"Nonsense," Tony cut him off, a bit distracted, as he stooped down to scratch her head, to which she purred happily. She butted her head against his hand a few times, meowing at him all the while.

"Sorry," Steve apologized again, watching his cat fawn over his guest with fondness in his voice, "she's probably trying to get you to pick her up, she's probably the only cat in the world who _likes _that, but she does this to everyone. Just ignore her and she'll…"

Steve trailed off with surprise when Tony bent down all the way and scooped the happily squirming feline up into his arms. Peggy meowed in satisfaction and nuzzled her nose into Tony's neck, settling against him as she rumbled contented purring.

He had to remind himself that it was absolutely ridiculous to get jealous of his cat for that.

Tony turned to Steve then, and just shrugged at Steve's mildly confused expression. "I like cats. Sue me."

Steve gave him warm grin. "I didn't say anything."

Tony just grunted, swayed a bit - apparently he hadn't completely sobered up yet - and made his way over to the couch like he owned the place. Not that Steve minded, in fact, it was kind of nice for Tony just to come into his house, pick up his cat and flop down on his couch like he belonged there.

"Well come on," Tony called over to Steve, who was still awkwardly standing in the doorway of _his own apartment -_ honestly, what was wrong with him - and gestured with a jerk of his chin for Steve to come there. "You wanted to watch Christmas movies, right?"

Steve crossed the room, and sank down into the couch next to him. "Yeah, but it's okay, I was just going to do that if I didn't go to the party, we don't have to…"

"Which one were you going to watch?" Tony interrupted, all the while stroking a very contented Peggy who was purring in his ear.

"It's a Wonderful Life."

"Never seen it."

"Really?"

Tony shrugged. "I'm not a billion years old. I'm a man of the future, not of the past. You on the other hand, seem like the kind of person who would watch old movies."

"Um, thanks?" Steve answered slowly, not quite sure if he should take that as a compliment or an insult.

"In a good way, Rogers," Tony assured him, around a sleepy yawn. "You're all … homey. It's nice."

"Okay, Tony," Steve responded, trying not to grin. He had to remember that it was the liquor talking, and he shouldn't read into it too much.

Though, who could blame him, with Tony sitting all relaxed and soft on his couch in the middle of the night while he cuddled with his cat. He figured he'd be forgiven for enjoying this a little bit.

"Well," Tony said expectantly over a head of fur. "What are you waiting for? Put the movie on."

"Okay, Tony," Steve said again, more than happy to oblige.

It was only a few moments after the opening swell of music that Tony released Peggy from his grip and let her settle into his lap, and dropped his head onto Steve's shoulder.

Every nerve ending in Steve's body short circuited then, surprise rushing through his body as Tony scooted closer and pressed up against his side. His warmth seeped through Steve's sweater, flush against his skin. His soft breaths were fluttering lightly against his neck, sending faint jolts of electricity through his body, down to his fingertips and his toes. Tony was so close that when Steve looked down at him in disbelief, he could see each curve of Tony's eyelashes, the shadow of faint light that glanced across his cheekbone.

Steve was pretty sure he could hear his heartbeat in his ears, which was ridiculous because he wasn't a blushing teenager, but still. This was _Tony._

"Can I do this?" Tony whispered.

"Yes," Steve said quickly, too quickly probably, and he hoped not too breathlessly, and gave a firm nod. Tony smiled softly, rested a hand on Peggy's head and scratched her lightly between her ears as he turned back to the movie.

It took Steve less than two minutes to thoroughly think the situation through, decide that he may never get a change like this again, and decide _what the hell. _

He shifted slightly, releasing his arm from where it was pressed between his body and Tony's, earning himself a little squawk of indignation from Tony. He very deliberately forced himself to reach that arm out to wrap it around Tony's shoulders, and tug him gently against his side. He tightened his fingers against the firm warmth of Tony's shoulder, giving him a nervous squeeze as he hugged him gently against him.

Tony was staring up at him now with a smile that Steve couldn't quite decipher, his face too close and not close enough all at the same time.

"Is this okay?" Steve asked, hoping that he was successful in masking the nervous tremble in his voice as he spoke.

Obviously, he didn't do as well as he'd hoped because he earned himself another eye roll, a fond one albeit, but an eye roll nonetheless.

Then, Steve was pretty sure he blacked out, because all of a sudden soft lips were pressed against his own, a tentative kiss brushed across his mouth. It was just chaste enough to be innocent, obviously meant to chase away any doubts Steve was having, but the fact that _Tony was kissing him_ understandably sent shivers up and down his spine.

The kiss was brief, too brief - Steve wanted more, he was sure he could never get his fill of Tony - and the kiss broke with Tony leaning away and looking up at him with a soft smile that was a mix of _you're an idiot, Steve, _and what Steve thought was the same dazed and blissful expression on his own face.

"Oh," Steve said cleverly, and Tony laughed.

"Relax, and watch the damn movie," Tony told him, returning his head to Steve's shoulder, leaving him sitting there with what was probably a comical and dorky expression on his face because _Tony had just kissed him._

It was then, in the faint glow of the television with Tony and his ridiculous cat cuddled up against him, that he decided that maybe office Christmas parties weren't so bad after all.


	4. It's Just You

Steve was pretty sure that he was hallucinating.

The thing was, it wasn't unusual for his rather eccentric, genius boyfriend to surprise him. In fact, it had gotten to the point where Steve just always expected him to surprise him at any given moment. Whether it was jumping out at him from behind a door to make him shriek like a five year old, or a spontaneous trip to Paris, Tony was quite frequent when it came to surprises. Steve had even grown to like the impulsiveness that came with being in a relationship with him, enjoying the fast pace far more than he would've thought he would.

So, he was no stranger to Tony surprises. But this. _This._

"Welcome home," Tony purred as he walked into their bedroom, voice laced with an enticing edge. Steve froze in the doorway with a "hello" dying on his lips, his fingers slack on the doorknob as he beheld the sight before him. Which was, much to Steve's complete and utter shock, rather festive looking lingerie.

A red corset hugged around Tony's torso, accentuating the slope and curves of his hip to his chest, trimmed with a thin line of white fur. Skimpy red underwear stretched over his hips and across his groin, attached to lacy garters that held up a pair of stockings, black and stretched over his legs in flimsy lace.

Nothing would have prepared him for the sight of Tony draped seductively across their bed, dressed in what was a rather … skimpy attire.

"Um," Steve squeaked. He was pretty sure his eyes were as wide as saucers.

"Got you an early Christmas present," Tony told him with a wink. "What you think?"

He gestured to himself, and Steve gulped, taking in every inch of him. He nodded, rather emphatically, and managed a "yup" that was too high and squeaky to his liking, but he couldn't really help that at this point.

Tony let out a little laugh, and stood up, beginning to cross the room to Steve. "Okay, you can't talk. That's fine, you don't really need to talk right now. Just let me do the talking. And the doing."

As Tony spoke, he sidled up alongside Steve and wrapped his hand around Steve's forearm, steering him towards the bed. "Just sit down, and enjoy, okay?"

"Okay," Steve managed to say as he lowered himself down onto the edge of the bed slowly, his eyes still roaming the sleekness of Tony's body under the material.

Tony smirked, and rested one hand lightly on his shoulder. "JARVIS?" he called, not looking away from Steve's face.

"Right away, sir," the AI responded, and then there was low music playing in the room, thankfully not tacky, just smooth and sensuous notes floating through the air.

Then Tony started to move, his hips swiveling, his lean and muscular legs braced as he bent forward, offering Steve a full view of him.

Steve was pretty sure that he was on fire at this point, and he could've sworn that he could feel the blood coursing through his veins, shimmering against every active nerve ending. Tony was standing between his legs, hips moving, the smooth expanse of his waist peeking out from beneath the corset, and Steve was just aching to brush his fingers against his skin.

"You can touch me you know," Tony murmured, as if he could tell where Steve's gaze was trained. Steve glanced up to find Tony looking down at him through his eyelashes with a small grin on his lips.

That was all the permission Steve needed; he reached out for him, aiming for that dip in the curve of his hip, his touch sending electric jolts through him as he connected with flesh. He felt himself shiver, and was almost sure that he felt Tony tremble slightly as well.

"So, what do you think?" Tony asked again.

Steve found his voice, and said in a dry voice, "I think that it's nice to see you getting into the Christmas spirit."

Tony laughed and moved closer to him slightly. "That's all you have to say? Really? And here I thought that you would be ecstatic, over the moon, completely overjoyed…"

"There's plenty I could say," Steve admitted, his voice rough with mounting arousal. "But I'd much rather show you than tell."

"Eager, are we?"

"Yes," he confirmed.

With that he reached out with his other hand to clutch at Tony's other hip, his hands lightly resting against Tony's skin, his fingers dipped just under the fabric, the lace of the underwear scratching pleasantly against his palm. His fingers tightened, his thumb pressing into that curve of his hipbone, perfectly slotting into place.

When he saw just the briefest flicker of something akin to nervousness flicker across Tony's face, he immediately slackened his touch.

"You okay?" he asked, genuinely concerned through his haze of arousal.

"More than okay," Tony assured him, placed his hands over Steve's where they rested on his waist before he could pull them away. He leaned over and pressed a kiss to Steve's mouth, slow and enticing, halfway between sensuous and chaste.

"But you looked nerv-" Steve started when they parted, not going to drop the issue until he was sure, but Tony interrupted him before he could get a sentence out.

"Not nervous, really," he explained, his breath just a light puff of air against Steve's lips, since he was still leaning in close. "Just always feel like this with you."

"Like what?"

"Hmm," Tony hummed, his eyes flickering as he searched for the word. "Anticipatory."

"That's a big word for bedroom talk, Tony."

"Shut up," Tony said, swatting at his shoulder. "That's how I feel."

Then he stepped even closer, so that they were pressed against each other, Steve's legs bracketing his thighs, every movement of his hips sending jolts up through his groin into his core. Steve bit back something that might have been a groan, his lip tortured as he caught it between his teeth.

"This doesn't make me nervous, you know that," Tony continued, maintaining eye contact with Steve as he spoke, "it's just you. You drive me insane. I just think about you taking me apart, touching me and looking at me and…"

He ran a hand across Steve's chest, and even though there was a layer of fabric there, he shivered.

"I will never get used to doing this with you. In a good way. It's good. I love it." He leaned in and kissed Steve again, brief and soft, before pulling away to say, "and I love you."

It was with those words, and the way that Tony ground up against him at the same time, that something snapped in Steve, this feral sensation rising up in him with urgency.

"C'mere," Steve growled, his voice hungry and laced with want, and his grip tightened on Tony's waist as he pulled him forward. Tony let out a small noise of surprise at that, and suddenly he was straddled across Steve's lap. His arms braced over Steve's shoulders, and he let out small, shuddering breaths into Steve's neck.

"There we go," Tony said slyly, but it tapered off into a gasp when Steve arched up and ground against him, effectively rendering him silent.

"Oh," he breathed, and began to move his hips again, rubbing against the hardness of Steve, eliciting a throaty growl in Steve's throat. Steve returned the movement from underneath him, his palms pressed flat against his back, holding Tony securely against him as they moved in tandem, finding the perfect, burning rhythm in just moments. Tony lifted his head from Steve's neck and pressed kisses and sucked marks into his skin, making his way to finally capture Steve's lips with his own, hot and frantic compared to other kisses they'd shared so far.

They stayed like that for a while, moving against each other, kissing; all lips and tongues and whispered endearments between their mouths, until Tony broke away with a broken gasp. Steve moved his hips just so, in that way he knew drove Tony crazy, and he outwardly moaned.

"Please," Tony panted, his eyes dilated and his cheeks flushed, "need you, touch me, please…"

Steve needed no more encouragement with that; one hand moved from the dip of Tony's lower back to rest against Tony's groin, teasing his hardness with slow movements against him through the lace. Tony arched into the touch, his breath heavy and filled with want.

"Your hand, Steve, touch _me_ god damn it."

And so Steve did, finally releasing him from the cursed fabric, flesh on flesh. His cock was hot and heavy in Steve's hand as he worked the length of him, each stroke earning him delicious sounds from the man writhing in his lap. Tony groaned and arched up into the touch, his lips hot and pressed against Steve's neck.

"Good?" Steve murmured into his ear, nipping at his earlobe as he began a slow, tortuous rhythm with his hand, dragging tortured moans from Tony's throat with every movement.

"You know damn well it's good," Tony retorted, but then Steve squeezed him just so, and all semblance of heat behind his words dissipated as he made a strangled noise, panting out a breath that sounded a lot like Steve's name.

When he came, it was with nails biting into Steve's shoulders, with a gasp and a shudder that rocked through his whole body. He came over Steve's hand in a hot rush, a string of curses hot and frantic on his tongue, and somewhere in there Steve's name came out, something that the self indulgent part of Steve rather enjoyed.

He collapsed into Steve then, his arms flinging around his neck, his breath ghosting across Steve's skin as he fought for his breath. Steve could've sworn that he could feel his heart beat against his chest; a staccato beat that thumped against his ribcage.

A few minutes later, Tony leaned back and looked at him, that familiar glint in his eyes, that grin on his lips.

"I take it you liked it then?"

Steve let out a short laugh, leaned forward to steal Tony's lips in a way that said _this is far from over. _

"Yeah, Tony. I liked it."


	5. Golden

Steve was pretty sure that he was hallucinating.

The thing was, it wasn't unusual for his rather eccentric, genius boyfriend to surprise him. In fact, it had gotten to the point where Steve just always expected him to surprise him at any given moment. Whether it was jumping out at him from behind a door to make him shriek like a five year old, or a spontaneous trip to Paris, Tony was quite frequent when it came to surprises. Steve had even grown to like the impulsiveness that came with being in a relationship with him, enjoying the fast pace far more than he would've thought he would.

So, he was no stranger to Tony surprises. But this. _This._

"Welcome home," Tony purred as he walked into their bedroom, voice laced with an enticing edge. Steve froze in the doorway with a "hello" dying on his lips, his fingers slack on the doorknob as he beheld the sight before him. Which was, much to Steve's complete and utter shock, rather festive looking lingerie.

A red corset hugged around Tony's torso, accentuating the slope and curves of his hip to his chest, trimmed with a thin line of white fur. Skimpy red underwear stretched over his hips and across his groin, attached to lacy garters that held up a pair of stockings, black and stretched over his legs in flimsy lace.

Nothing would have prepared him for the sight of Tony draped seductively across their bed, dressed in what was a rather … skimpy attire.

"Um," Steve squeaked. He was pretty sure his eyes were as wide as saucers.

"Got you an early Christmas present," Tony told him with a wink. "What you think?"

He gestured to himself, and Steve gulped, taking in every inch of him. He nodded, rather emphatically, and managed a "yup" that was too high and squeaky to his liking, but he couldn't really help that at this point.

Tony let out a little laugh, and stood up, beginning to cross the room to Steve. "Okay, you can't talk. That's fine, you don't really need to talk right now. Just let me do the talking. And the doing."

As Tony spoke, he sidled up alongside Steve and wrapped his hand around Steve's forearm, steering him towards the bed. "Just sit down, and enjoy, okay?"

"Okay," Steve managed to say as he lowered himself down onto the edge of the bed slowly, his eyes still roaming the sleekness of Tony's body under the material.

Tony smirked, and rested one hand lightly on his shoulder. "JARVIS?" he called, not looking away from Steve's face.

"Right away, sir," the AI responded, and then there was low music playing in the room, thankfully not tacky, just smooth and sensuous notes floating through the air.

Then Tony started to move, his hips swiveling, his lean and muscular legs braced as he bent forward, offering Steve a full view of him.

Steve was pretty sure that he was on fire at this point, and he could've sworn that he could feel the blood coursing through his veins, shimmering against every active nerve ending. Tony was standing between his legs, hips moving, the smooth expanse of his waist peeking out from beneath the corset, and Steve was just aching to brush his fingers against his skin.

"You can touch me you know," Tony murmured, as if he could tell where Steve's gaze was trained. Steve glanced up to find Tony looking down at him through his eyelashes with a small grin on his lips.

That was all the permission Steve needed; he reached out for him, aiming for that dip in the curve of his hip, his touch sending electric jolts through him as he connected with flesh. He felt himself shiver, and was almost sure that he felt Tony tremble slightly as well.

"So, what do you think?" Tony asked again.

Steve found his voice, and said in a dry voice, "I think that it's nice to see you getting into the Christmas spirit."

Tony laughed and moved closer to him slightly. "That's all you have to say? Really? And here I thought that you would be ecstatic, over the moon, completely overjoyed…"

"There's plenty I could say," Steve admitted, his voice rough with mounting arousal. "But I'd much rather show you than tell."

"Eager, are we?"

"Yes," he confirmed.

With that he reached out with his other hand to clutch at Tony's other hip, his hands lightly resting against Tony's skin, his fingers dipped just under the fabric, the lace of the underwear scratching pleasantly against his palm. His fingers tightened, his thumb pressing into that curve of his hipbone, perfectly slotting into place.

When he saw just the briefest flicker of something akin to nervousness flicker across Tony's face, he immediately slackened his touch.

"You okay?" he asked, genuinely concerned through his haze of arousal.

"More than okay," Tony assured him, placed his hands over Steve's where they rested on his waist before he could pull them away. He leaned over and pressed a kiss to Steve's mouth, slow and enticing, halfway between sensuous and chaste.

"But you looked nerv-" Steve started when they parted, not going to drop the issue until he was sure, but Tony interrupted him before he could get a sentence out.

"Not nervous, really," he explained, his breath just a light puff of air against Steve's lips, since he was still leaning in close. "Just always feel like this with you."

"Like what?"

"Hmm," Tony hummed, his eyes flickering as he searched for the word. "Anticipatory."

"That's a big word for bedroom talk, Tony."

"Shut up," Tony said, swatting at his shoulder. "That's how I feel."

Then he stepped even closer, so that they were pressed against each other, Steve's legs bracketing his thighs, every movement of his hips sending jolts up through his groin into his core. Steve bit back something that might have been a groan, his lip tortured as he caught it between his teeth.

"This doesn't make me nervous, you know that," Tony continued, maintaining eye contact with Steve as he spoke, "it's just you. You drive me insane. I just think about you taking me apart, touching me and looking at me and…"

He ran a hand across Steve's chest, and even though there was a layer of fabric there, he shivered.

"I will never get used to doing this with you. In a good way. It's good. I love it." He leaned in and kissed Steve again, brief and soft, before pulling away to say, "and I love you."

It was with those words, and the way that Tony ground up against him at the same time, that something snapped in Steve, this feral sensation rising up in him with urgency.

"C'mere," Steve growled, his voice hungry and laced with want, and his grip tightened on Tony's waist as he pulled him forward. Tony let out a small noise of surprise at that, and suddenly he was straddled across Steve's lap. His arms braced over Steve's shoulders, and he let out small, shuddering breaths into Steve's neck.

"There we go," Tony said slyly, but it tapered off into a gasp when Steve arched up and ground against him, effectively rendering him silent.

"Oh," he breathed, and began to move his hips again, rubbing against the hardness of Steve, eliciting a throaty growl in Steve's throat. Steve returned the movement from underneath him, his palms pressed flat against his back, holding Tony securely against him as they moved in tandem, finding the perfect, burning rhythm in just moments. Tony lifted his head from Steve's neck and pressed kisses and sucked marks into his skin, making his way to finally capture Steve's lips with his own, hot and frantic compared to other kisses they'd shared so far.

They stayed like that for a while, moving against each other, kissing; all lips and tongues and whispered endearments between their mouths, until Tony broke away with a broken gasp. Steve moved his hips just so, in that way he knew drove Tony crazy, and he outwardly moaned.

"Please," Tony panted, his eyes dilated and his cheeks flushed, "need you, touch me, please…"

Steve needed no more encouragement with that; one hand moved from the dip of Tony's lower back to rest against Tony's groin, teasing his hardness with slow movements against him through the lace. Tony arched into the touch, his breath heavy and filled with want.

"Your hand, Steve, touch _me_ god damn it."

And so Steve did, finally releasing him from the cursed fabric, flesh on flesh. His cock was hot and heavy in Steve's hand as he worked the length of him, each stroke earning him delicious sounds from the man writhing in his lap. Tony groaned and arched up into the touch, his lips hot and pressed against Steve's neck.

"Good?" Steve murmured into his ear, nipping at his earlobe as he began a slow, tortuous rhythm with his hand, dragging tortured moans from Tony's throat with every movement.

"You know damn well it's good," Tony retorted, but then Steve squeezed him just so, and all semblance of heat behind his words dissipated as he made a strangled noise, panting out a breath that sounded a lot like Steve's name.

When he came, it was with nails biting into Steve's shoulders, with a gasp and a shudder that rocked through his whole body. He came over Steve's hand in a hot rush, a string of curses hot and frantic on his tongue, and somewhere in there Steve's name came out, something that the self indulgent part of Steve rather enjoyed.

He collapsed into Steve then, his arms flinging around his neck, his breath ghosting across Steve's skin as he fought for his breath. Steve could've sworn that he could feel his heart beat against his chest; a staccato beat that thumped against his ribcage.

A few minutes later, Tony leaned back and looked at him, that familiar glint in his eyes, that grin on his lips.

"I take it you liked it then?"

Steve let out a short laugh, leaned forward to steal Tony's lips in a way that said _this is far from over. _

"Yeah, Tony. I liked it."


End file.
